usband she was before.

"It will be a Crystal Wedding, because it is fifteen years.

"She invites you and father to come home to it; she couldn't have
it without father.

"You are going to be the bridesmaid! How queer! Mamma didn't think,
the first time she was married, that ever it would be _you_ that
would be her bridesmaid!

"From your dear, dear

"PRUDY."

"P.S. There will be wedding cake."

"P.S. No. 2. Johnny Eastman is going to be _bridegroom_, to stand
up, if he doesn't do anything naughty before. P.P."

The look of "mouldy melancholy" disappeared from Dotty's face entirely.

"A wedding! A _crystal_ wedding! What can that be? I didn't know my
father and mother would ever be married any more. Aunt 'Ria, were you
and Uncle Henry ever married any more?"

"This is a sort of make-believe wedding," replied Mrs. Clifford; "that
is all. And since you are to be bridesmaid, Dotty, I wonder if I cannot
find a pair of white slippers for you. I remember Grace had a pair some
years ago, which she has never worn."

[Illustration: THE WHITE SLIPPERS.--Page 167.]

The slippers were produced, and fitted perfectly. Dotty danced about,
embraced her auntie, made a great many wild speeches, and finally found
herself in her uncle's lap, kissing him and laughing aloud.

"I suppose now," said Mr. Clifford, "we cannot keep you much longer and
I am sorry, for it is very pleasant to have our little cousin here to
talk with us."

"I don't wan't um go 'way, I don't want um go 'way," spoke up little
Katie.

"But I _must_ go to meet my papa," returned Dotty, with a business air.
"I have to be at home to get ready for the wedding."

It was very pleasant to know people liked her to stay. She ran into the
kitchen, and said to Katinka,--

"O, Katinka, my papa and mamma are going to be married again! Do you
know I've got to start day after to-morrow?"

"So?" replied Katinka, not very much impressed. "I'm going to a party.
I must up stairs go, and make my hairs and shut my dress. Gute Nacht."

"I'm only going to stay one more day; aren't you sorry?" said Dotty to
broken-nosed Phebe, who came in from the pantry with a long face.

"Why, I reckoned you was going _to-morrow_," was Phebe's cool reply,
rolling the whites of her eyes to hide a twinkle of fun. She knew Dotty
expected her to say, "I am sorry;" but, though she really was sorry, she
would not confess